The Eight Great Magics
by Solvableenigma
Summary: There is a way to defeat every opponent, or so it has been said. But what if there were powers so strong that it was rumored that they could not be beaten? When these powers emerge, it is up to the guilds of Fiore to band together and stop these "evil" magics. AU with no Tartarus.


Energetic. That was the word to describe the city of Magnolia. Various forms of business and pleasure - sometimes a combination of the two - were being performed with the comforting lull of practiced routine. It was a quaint feeling walking through the place; Benet enjoyed it. He felt welcomed by the city and its people, having been drawn there due to its charm. And Fairy Tail. The guild of legend was considered the strongest in Fiore, even after suffering a depression of sorts after a disastrous trial. Winning the most recent Grand Magic Games had reasserted the guild as the best; perhaps that's why the young man wanted to join so readily.

Anxiety played at his nerves. While the guild had a reputation for being one of the most open guilds in terms of membership, they still had to have some sort of being said, Benet was confident in his abilities. He was not the level of some of Fairy Tail's more infamous mages, Salamander and Titania came to mind, but he knew that he was more than a run-of-the-mill variety of mage.

Benet inhaled slowly, carefully drawing in all sorts of wonderful scents. Magnolia seemed to sparkle as if it were charged with a distinct magic of its own, more sacred and glorious than any other city could hold. Aromas of freshly prepared meals and pastries wafted through the streets lazily while the sounds of the sea and those who chose to brave it could be heard some distance away. Young girls flirted casually with passing gentlemen, children played with each other, and animals roamed, begging for leftover foodstuffs from the vendors. Some gave in, others refused. Smiling, the mage focused his attention on the upcoming hill.

Far in the distance rested the new building of Fairy Tail. A gentle line of smoke rose from the chimney, nestled within the forest, cradled and protected. His smile widening to a grin, Benet broke into a run as he left the city's limits.

He did not take time to appreciate the cozy homes that lined the pathway to Fairy Tail, nor did he notice that these homes had numerous repairs...for which were paid by Fairy Tail. Damage repercussions would drain the 30 million Jewel that the guild had won very quickly if it refused to be more careful.

As he approached, an uproar of voices caught his ear. Benet eased into a jog and made the final turn. The building was modest, but had a home-like feel to it. A humble wooden and stone structure standing proud in the middle of the forest that parted respectfully, Benet was nonetheless impressed. Magic power was tangible in the air.

An explosion of fire sent a man wearing nothing but his boxers flying into a tree.

"Haha!" a cocky voice rang out. "Serves you right, Gray!"

"Why you little…" The man against the tree faltered before crouching into a low position and staring at the pink-haired mage. "Ice-Make: Lance!" he shouted. He moved as if he were throwing nothing, but a long, pointed shaft appeared in his hand as he launched it towards his opponent.

It made contact with the other mage and he was forced back into the gate. However, the ice quickly melted as the mage became coated in magical flames. "Oh, you're gonna pay for that, Gray. I'm all fired up now!"

"Please, you could barely light a candle, Natsu," Gray taunted, his voice calm.

With a roar, Natsu leapt from his position and ran towards his companion. Gray mimicked this. Fire covered Natsu's hands; ice surrounded Gray's. The two were so close to landing their final blows on each other.

"That's enough, both of you!" a voice commanded. It was heavy, full-bodied, and sent a shiver down Benet's spine.

"Yes, ma'am, sorry, ma'am!" the two responded simultaneously, prostrating themselves in front of an armor-clad red-head, repeatedly bowing down. Benet recognized her as the famed Erza "Titania" Scarlet.

"We have a visitor, show some decency," she barked. "Natsu, go get Master. Gray, go put some clothes on! NOW!" Without a second's hesitation the two ran off to their assigned tasks.

Benet stood in front of the mage and suddenly felt conspicuous. Erza walked towards him. Sticking out her hand, she said, "My apologies. Those two like to fight at the worst times. My name is Erza." Her speech had turned quite cordial and amicable.

"Benet," the young man responded curtly.

"Interesting name."

"I guess so." An awkward silence fell between the two, though Benet could tell that it was probably more awkward for him. Standing tall and lanky, he instinctively pulled his black overcoat closed as if he were a child being in the presence of a god.

Chuckling, Erza placed a hand on Benet's shoulder. "Relax, there's no need to be tense." Benet did not relax, instead his muscles tightened as he felt the heavy hand on his body. Giving a somewhat sympathetic look, Erza invited him into the guild hall.

As Erza pushed open the meager doors into the guild, Benet was immediately struck with a wave of jubilance upon entering the excitable guild. Beer and wine and liquor flowed without restriction while hearty helpings of food were being passed around, most of which was being consumed by a particularly rotund man. Tumultuous vulgarities were tossed at most of the women in the guild, only to be shot down in overly polite manners. As Benet walked with Erza, he ducked a chair that flew over him.

Coming up on the bar, Benet noticed the master, Makarov, if he remembered correctly. The master was a small man yet exuded such immense magic power that he intimidated Benet. Still, the aspiring mage moved to speak with him with as much confidence as he could muster, desperately trying to ignore the knot forming in his stomach.

"So this is the one Natsu told me about," Makarov mused, taking a draw from his pipe. "Tell me, youngster, what is your name?"

"Benet, sir."

Makarov nodded. "So, why do you want to join Fairy Tail?"

Benet cast his eyes downward. "I have nowhere else to go," he stated, voice wavering.

Narrowing his eyes, Makarov probed further. "What do you mean by that?"

"I'd rather not say."

Makarov made a low rumble in his throat. "Young man, we here in Fairy Tail pride ourselves for being able to completely open with each other."

"Please," a gentle voice said, "Don't be afraid. Everyone here carries wounds of a sad past." Benet looked to see who had spoken. A bit of flush rose into his cheeks as he saw Mirajane. Equally famous for both her looks and her magical ability, Benet quickly returned to staring at the floor.

"She's right," commented Erza. "We are a family."

"I'd rather not," Benet repeated. "If it's going to be a problem, I will leave." He bowed respectfully. "Sorry for bothering you."

Without waiting for a response, Benet turned to leave. Disappointment and guilt toyed with his thoughts. He did not trust these people, regardless of their intentions, but even in their simple words they had expressed so much to him. Could he really have turned his back on them like he did?

"Young man! Wait!" Makarov called.

Benet faced the shorter man, meeting his eyes; he wanted to flinch away but Makarov's gaze held him in place.

"Look here, don't think that because you won't tell us your secrets, we won't let you in." Benet's expression softened as Makarov grinned. "You can tell someone when you're ready. And of course, I expect that to be one of your new guildmates."

"You mean…" Benet breathed. Makarov nodded. A smile burst forth on Benet's face and he fell to one knee. "Thank you, Master Makarov. Thank you...so much…"

Makarov laughed. "Get up, child. Erza! Bring us the insignia stamp, please."

Benet rose as Erza gathered the necessary tools and laid them out. "Where do you want it?" she asked, a tinge of excitement in her voice.

Rolling up the sleeve of his coat, Benet exposed the underside of his right forearm. "Here," he said wistfully.

"Any specific color?"

"White," he responded instantly.

Erza proceeded to press the stamp onto his arm, lean but muscular. After she removed it, Benet moved to touch it, but held his hand over the insignia, nervous that any touch would potentially rub off the ink. He resigned himself to staring at it affectionately. It was his, his very own insignia; no one would take that from him.

"Attention, everyone!" Makarov shouted into the rambunctious mages. No one heard him.

"Quiet!" Erza commanded. Immediate silence.

"I'd like you all to welcome our newest member, Benet!" The roar of applause and excitement that followed made Benet feel as if he had just singlehandedly won the Grand Magic Games.

"Congratulations!" cried a petite girl with strikingly blue hair.

"Alright we got another man in here!" shouted a man who was the complete antithesis of the previous girl. Burly, tough-looking, and massive, Benet assumed that it probably would not be good for his health to fight him right off of the bat.

"Oh shut up, you big lug. Who cares if he's a guy or not?" The one who had spoken was a girl dressed only in a bra cradling a gargantuan barrel of what Benet assumed to be alcohol.

"What'd you call Elfman?" asked a girl who bore a resemblance to both Mirajane and the aforementioned Elfman.

A man dressed in a steampunk-esque style stepped in between the two girls. "Ouí, girls, please don't fight. Cana didn't mean anything by it." He then made the deadly mistake of putting his hands on the youngest sister's shoulders.

"A real man would never touch another's sister, Reedus!" Elfman shouted, his arms transforming into what looked like those of a tiger. He lunged at the artist but was narrowly evaded causing him to crash into a honey-haired woman, glasses low on the bridge of her nose. He accidentally grabbed her breasts. "E-Ever," he stammered, completely flustered.

Evergreen spoke through gritted teeth. "Not here, Elfman...AND GET OFF OF ME!" A flurry of fairy dust. Elfman quickly rolled out of the way.

The dust flew straight and slammed into the guy, Natsu, that Benet had seen fighting outside. "Hey! What's the big idea?"

Within moments the entirety of the guild hall was engaged in the brawl with the few bystanders continuously dodging stray attacks. Benet dodged a blast of sand and turned to Mirajane and asked, "Does this sort of thing happen often?"

Putting a finger on her chin, Mirajane laughed. "It seems to happen more often when we get new recruits."

Suddenly, a blast of smoke was throttling towards Benet. Mirajane called out to him, but Benet already was in action. "Magic Cloak: Defense!" he shouted. The smoke blast hit with surgical accuracy, leaving Mirajane stunned.

She really hoped that they did not just kill the new guy already.

However, once the smoke cleared, Benet was revealed, a deep blue aura surrounding him. His Magic Cloak spells allowed him to create an aura around himself that could be used to deflect other magics, or, inversely, be used to attack, albeit at the cost of leaving part of his body exposed and not having much range.

"Magic Cloak: Extension!" He thrust his fist forward and the blue substance launched off of his body, being removed from his left leg and shooting into the crowd.

"Ow!" someone cried out. Benet could not tell who but the voice sounded distinctly masculine.

Allowing the aura to absorb into his body once again, Benet maneuvered around the fighting with Mirajane so that they were behind the bar with Makarov, who had been casually smoking and drinking the entire time.

"Yep," he commented dryly, "You'll fit right in here, my boy."

Benet smiled, but that smile suddenly fell as he felt a piercing pain in his heart. "No...no…" he muttered before falling into unconsciousness, MIrajane's voice becoming a distant sound.

########

Deep within the darkest halls of the Magic Council sat one man, meditating. He did not eat; he did not sleep; he did not so much as breathe. Unaware of the day, the week, the day, the month, the year, the decade, and only vaguely aware of the century, he was motionless. No noises permeated the sanctum. Light was nothing more than a myth. He floated in a container of water that constituted the majority of the room, completely desensitized.

Suddenly, a movement, a pulse. The man's eyes opened in shock; colorless and dysfunctional, the eyes had not opened in over 200 years yet still saw everything. Another pulse was felt by the man and his upright posture buckled as six more pulses convened onto him.

Straining, he forced his arms to move, extended in front of him. His muscles screamed from disuse, but his arms held the final indicator that he required. Amidst the blackness of his secular vision, eight red dots were illuminated in his darkness. Dread filled the man's being and he threw his head back and shot to the surface of the water. His lungs filled with air as he struggled to breathe. Trapped in suspension for so long, he had almost forgotten how to trust his instincts. As his body began to grow accustomed to movement and regular function, his mind began to contemplate the situation at hand.

The eight dots, that meant only one thing: the magics had returned. The magics that would destroy the world were upon them once again. He moved his jaw, hearing its cracking echo in the desolate room. Channeling energy, he spoke for the first time in centuries.

In a more well-known area of the Magic Council, the members were discussing several items of various importance, most of which were simple formalities. However, a creaky voice interrupted the proceedings. The voice was destitute and weak, marked by a remarkable rasp, yet its presence sent fear into every council member.

"They...have...awoken...You...must...stop...them." The command was brief and sluggish, but it sent the council into a frenzy.

Suggestions and bickering commenced almost immediately. While they had all been prepared for the potential of this day arising, none truly expected it to come during their lifetimes. Arguments raged, becoming more heated. Magic began to flow as the members' agitation grew, uncertainty becoming the catalyst for violence.

Suddenly, all was quiet as a singular voice cut through the rest. "My fellows," the voice belonging to the council chair, Gran Doma, boomed. "We were all well aware that this day might come." A murmur passed through the members. "But we also know what to do in this case, as our predecessors did not."

"We all know that these magics are the most powerful ever to be mastered by man. They arise every few hundred years and wreak havoc on the world. These magics have only been beaten back through sheer luck and…" Gran paused for a moments, taking in a sharp breath. "Allegiance," he finally said, eyes closed. Stroking his beard, he continued. "We must make the legal guilds of Fiore aware of this before it gets out of hand. We need to unite all of our power in order to defeat these menaces before they destroy the world and we must act fast!" He opened his eyes and seemed to stare at each of the members simultaneously. "I propose that we enact the Writ of Command."

The words were heavy and damning. The Writ of Command was only to be used in dire circumstances. It allowed the Council to essentially remove the masters of guilds from powers to be replaced with a representative from the Council. It was drastic, and it would cost the Council credibility with the guilds.

"It is unfavorable," Gran conceded. "But we all know the destruction that these magics have wrought in the past."

"If I may, Sir," said Org. "While I understand the gravity of the situation, I am sure that the guilds would be more than happy to ally with each other to fight this menace. I do not think that we need to enact the Writ of Command."

"I agree," announced Doranbolt, who had been remarkably silent throughout the entire endeavor. "The mages are a reasonable lot, they'll see reason."

Gran shook his head. "I have no doubt that the mages will agree to work together, but this is a matter that is bigger than that. These mages are spread all over the continent, all eight of them possessing the enough power to destroy part of Earthland. However, it takes time for this power to fully manifest. While the mages will agree, organizing and enacting any plans will take far too long if the Council is not in complete control. We bicker enough with just ourselves, not counting all of the masters that we would have to contend with. Swiftness is needed here, it's our only chance. If we do not act now and act with only the harshest measures, we will all find ourselves destroyed."

There was silence in the hall. Gran's words had an obvious impact on those gathered, many brows furrowing and fists clenching. Finally, Doranbolt spoke. "How is it that you know all of this?"

Gran sighed. "When I assumed this position, I was given memories of past heads of Council. I have inadvertently seen the destruction these eight can cause. However, I also know of the magics that these mages possess." He grumbled and coughed. "I don't have any indication of weaknesses, unfortunately. It is through sheer luck that any mages survived the past two times these magics emerged. With this in mind, however, I think that we can defeat these mages before any real destruction begins."

Thumbing his cane lightly, Gran spoke one last time. "I now put this to vote."

The Writ of Command had never been used before, requiring all nine of the Magic Council members to be in agreement, a process that was nearly impossible to finish. Soon, one hand went up, then another, then a third. Before long, only Doranbolt remained as the sole opposition.

Head down in ponderance, he finally raised his hand.

Gran closed his eyes in reverence. "We will need to get this information out to the guilds quickly. Rune Knights and employees here can control the minor guilds, but we are going to physically have to take command of the major ones. That means…" He trailed off. "That means one of us will have to alert Fairy Tail."

"I will do so!" came Doranbolt's voice, causing surprised expressions to come across the faces of those involved. "I know the Fairies' ways; I think that they'll accept me faster than any other here."

"Very well, Doranbolt, if that is your choice," Gran allowed. "The rest of the major guilds will be assigned at random if no one has any further requests."

No further requests were given.

"Then, as acting Head of the Council, I, Gran Doma, declare the Writ of Command active and a war on these 8 Great Magics commenced!"

**A/N: Ah, the first chapter of my second long-series. This one will be shorter, more fast paced, and more light-hearted than my other story, To Judge the World. I have been playing with this idea for quite some time and I look forward to being able to have some fun with semi-original magics.**

**Also, this is a minor AU where Tartarus never existed as the Magic Council plays a large part in this story. While there will be more prominent characters and support characters, this fic will largely be like the Fairy Tail anime/manga where there is no real "main character." Finally, this fic will include several shippings that I personally find appealing because, hey, it's fun.**

**So, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter and, as always, reviews and feedback are always welcome!**


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